The Furry Wingman
by misskaterinab
Summary: Kurt visits an animal shelter seeking companionship. Who knew you could find several different kinds there? And yes, that's the REAL Furry Wingman in the pic - he was never a wingman, but he WAS the inspiration for this story
1. The Meeting

A/N: This is a goofy little thing, which turned out to be a goofy BIG thing, I wrote when I scanned my living room looking for a little drabble prompt and my eyes settled on one of my cats. This fic is written in honor of my late "first child" Bentley, who was also adopted from a shelter. June is Pet Adoption Month - please consider looking for your new best friend in a shelter before you seek a breeder or buy from a pet store. Some of the most wonderful animals in the world are just waiting for you to bring them home.

**xXxXxXx**

"And our kittens are over here in this room," the woman said enthusiastically.

Kurt turned to face the animal shelter employee and said, "I think I'll stick with the older cats. There's someone out there for all those kittens, but there might not be someone for the older ones."

"Excellent!" she exclaimed. "I wish more people had your opinion. I will leave you to it, then. There are six kitties to a room, and they each have a name on their collar. If you find one you like, match the name to their information card in the hanging file outside the door. The visiting rooms are across the aisle; feel free to bring one you'd like to get to know better into one for some one on one time. If you have any questions, there's always one of us floating around somewhere. Good luck!"

"Thank you!"

Kurt opened the door to the first room of cats and slipped in carefully, just in case someone decided to make a break for it. He was open to any cat that would be a good fit in his home, but he had always wanted a tuxedo cat. As someone to whom fashion was important, it always felt just right that a tuxedo cat was all dressed up no matter what the occasion.

He perused the occupants, a bit disappointed that this appeared to be group naptime. Granted, every time was naptime for a cat, but he thought maybe someone might be awake. He moved to pet the cat closest to him, but as soon as his hand made contact, it woke up with a hiss and a swiping clawed paw. _Okay, maybe not this one,_ he thought.

The next kitty woke with a yawn and a stretch, and Kurt gently scratched around its ears. It was a beautiful long-haired cat, but as much as he tried, he couldn't see himself enjoying this cat's company without worrying about all the tangled fur, the vomited hairballs, and the giant fuzzballs in every corner. He was well aware that cats shed, but adopting a longhair seemed to be inviting trouble.

Kurt decided that before he really got down to the business of finding his new companion, he would peek in the other two rooms and the cages first. Maybe his formally attired friend would be housed elsewhere.

There was a wall of kitties in individual cages, but Kurt discovered these cats were kept separate because they did not play well with other cats. He wanted to leave his options open for possibly adopting a second cat at another time, so a cat that fought with others was not ideal.

He was just about to step into another of the group rooms when he heard a soft voice. "Can I help you find someone?" he asked.

Kurt turned around abruptly and was met with a pair of sparkling caramel eyes that immediately commanded his attention. He chanced looking elsewhere at the man who had spoken to him, and was equally taken. He was about Kurt's age, slightly shorter, and _very _attractive. _Those curls would give me something to hang onto as we…_ Kurt shook his head. _Shut up! How much more inappropriate can you be?_

It took him a few moments to realize he was staring and that he had better say something before the man decided he was too mentally challenged to be able to properly care for a pet.

"Uhhh…" _Oh Kurt, you are such a brilliant conversationalist,_ he mentally chided himself. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Oh, umm, I'm just kinda… browsing?" _You IDIOT. You're not at Macy's shopping for clothes._ Kurt had to stop himself from physically facepalming and settled for the internal variety.

The man grinned and said, "I get it. The task of choosing your new best friend can be daunting. What kind of kitty are you looking for? I'm here among them nearly every day; maybe I can help you find the right one for you."

THIS, Kurt could handle. "Oh! Well thanks. I, um… well, I live alone, so it would be nice to have an animal that would meet me at the door, or at least not hide itself constantly, when I come home for the day. A lap cat would be great – I tend to just crash in front of the TV for hours after work and watch a bunch of stuff off my DVR." _Great, Kurt, you've just painted yourself to be incredibly boring in front of this seriously gorgeous man. Way to go!_ "But not TOO lazy, either. I'd like to be able to play with it, too."

"Perhaps I could interest you in a dog if you want some level of guaranteed activity?" The man chuckled. _Oh my GOD, his laugh is adorable. _"Most of our kitties here right now are pretty much furniture paperweights. But there ARE a few who do tend to gravitate towards me when I come around to check on them – maybe one of them would interest you?

"Sure!" Kurt said, far too enthusiastically. _Calm yourself, Hummel. Play it cool. _ "Show me the way."

"By the way, my name's Blaine," the man said, holding out his hand.

Kurt took it, noting how soft and gentle it felt, and shook. "I'm Kurt. Pleasure."

"Pleasure's all mine," Blaine said.

_Holy shit, did he smile at me? _

Blaine took Kurt into the farthest room from the entrance to the cat area. "My best cat friends are in this room." He pointed at an oversized striped longhaired cat who struggled to hoist himself out of his bed to greet the visitors. "That's Herman. He's eighteen pounds and a lap cat, so if you want him, you better have a strong lap."

Kurt smiled at the cat that was lumbering towards them. He bent down to offer the giant a hand to sniff, but he knew this would not be the right cat for him. "He looks like a sweetheart, but it's the fur I'm more worried about than anything. I've resigned myself to the fact that cat hair will get on everything I own, but I think long hair will be more than I can handle."

"Okay, then. Maybe you'd prefer Cleo." Blaine looked up to a high perch and snapped his fingers. "C'mere girl! Come on down!" Amazingly, the cat got up and started to make her way down.

"I thought cats wouldn't come when they are called," Kurt said.

"Most don't. Most will look at you like you're insane. But Cleo acts like a dog sometimes."

The cat jumped onto Blaine's shoulder and looked at Kurt. She was a beautiful orange tabby.

"She kind of reminds me of the goldfish Cleo from Pinocchio," Kurt noted. "She has the same color."

"That was my idea," Blaine said proudly. "It's my job to name any kitties that are dropped off without names so we have something to call them while they're here at the shelter."

"Well, you did good. It suits her." Kurt peered around the room and didn't see any traces of black fur. "Actually, do you have any tuxedo cats around here? I've kind of always wanted one."

"Oh, you mean the 'always dressed up but nowhere to go' type?"

Kurt laughed lightly and said, "Yeah, the fashion minded part of me has always appreciated that in a cat."

"Well, you're in luck. I do have one buddy in the other room that might be a good fit for you. You two would definitely make a handsome pair. Come on, I'll introduce you."

Blaine opened the door and allowed Kurt to exit first, and then he quickly slid out before Cleo could get out (Herman, of course, would not have been capable of a quick escape). He opened the last door and gestured for Kurt to precede him. Like the first room, all of the cats were curled up somewhere sleeping so Blaine didn't need to be fast closing the door. He quickly scanned all the perches, and his eyes settled upon one that was just above his head.

"Here. See that one?" Blaine pointed at the cat nest above him. "Go ahead, reach your hand in and pet him. I promise you won't get bitten."

Kurt did as he was told and stroked the fur that he felt inside. Immediately a black head appeared over the edge of the carpeted perch, and a pair of sleepy green eyes stared back at Kurt.

"Kurt, meet Bentley." Bentley stood up and stretched, and Kurt was able to see a strip of white fur that started at his whiskers, ran down his chin, and ended at his white chest and tummy. "You'll see he's a little paunchy; that's because he's quite the chowhound. He doesn't really meow unless he's demanding his breakfast. Once he's done eating, he's back to being the strong, silent type."

"Why is he called Bentley? That's a car, isn't it? Or The Jeffersons' annoying British next door neighbor?"

Blaine laughed sweetly, and Kurt immediately wished for the opportunity to make him laugh more often. "You're right on both counts, of course, but there's another reason for the name. Run your fingers down his tail."

Kurt complied with Blaine's request and found a kink in Bentley's tail, right at the tip. "Bentley's previous owners didn't tell us what happened to his tail, but it is bent at almost a ninety degree angle. Hence, Bentley."

"I love it! It's classy. It reminds me of a proper English butler, and with the tuxedo, it's even more perfect."

"I thought it might appeal to you. Just be careful not to manipulate the kink in his tail too much. It's an old injury, but because it didn't heal right, he's still a bit sensitive to touch there."

"Thanks for the warning."

Blaine reached up and grabbed the cat from his perch and held him out to Kurt. "Why don't you take him to one of the visiting rooms? Do you know the proper way to hold a cat?"

Kurt did, but he allowed Blaine to show him how to firmly yet gently hold the cat in a comfortable position. Blaine held the door open for him and then opened up a visiting room for Kurt and Bentley to go into.

"I've got litter boxes to scoop and all that happy fun stuff, so I'll be around. When you are done hanging out with him, just put him back in his room, and if you decide in favor of taking him home with you, grab his card from outside the door. A missing card indicates that the cat is pending adoption so anyone else visiting the kitties knows he's not currently available. Let me know what you decide, okay?"

"I will. Thank you so much for all your help."

"It's no problem at all."

Kurt went inside the room and shut the door. He set Bentley down on the floor and allowed him to stretch his legs. Bentley turned around and immediately stared Kurt down. Kurt sat on the bench and patted the space next to him, inviting the cat to join him. Bentley jumped up effortlessly and began to rub his nose all over Kurt's hand. "Oh! That's cold," he said. Realizing it was Bentley's way of saying, Hey you, pet me!, he began to stroke the cat's back.

"You're such a good boy, aren't you?" he said, praising the cat. "Do you want to come home with me? Do you like reality TV? I promise you, Tyra Banks is more bark than bite. And Gordon Ramsay is a big softy if you haven't pissed him off. You'll like them both."

Blaine stood outside the room, straining to hear the bits of "conversation" coming from Kurt. Blaine felt a little guilty that he had purposely put Kurt in the room that wasn't QUITE soundproofed; he could hear a little bit of what was said inside if it was a quiet day at the shelter. He knew right away in the cat room that Bentley would be a good match with Kurt. It took him only a few minutes of eavesdropping on Kurt in the visiting room to know that Kurt would be a good match for himself.

Blaine reluctantly pulled himself away from spying on Kurt and engrossed himself in his daily duties around the shelter. Ten minutes later, he noticed Kurt slip out of the room and put Bentley back in the big room with the other cats. He came out and wandered around, peeking through the doors of the other rooms.

_Come on, come on, grab the card,_ Blaine mentally urged Kurt. After an extremely long five minutes, Kurt rifled through the cards outside of Bentley's door and pulled one out. _YES!_ Blaine thought. _I knew it!_

Kurt scanned the room and his eyes settled upon Blaine, who was pouring some dry cat food in a bowl inside an individual cage. "Blaine?" he called. _God, what I wouldn't do to have that voice screaming my name all the time…_

"Yes, Kurt? Have you decided?"

Kurt waved the card in the air in response and gave him a tentative smile. Blaine, before he could stop himself, threw his arms around Kurt. "That's great! You're going to love him!"

Kurt seemed a little startled, Blaine noticed. _Shit, I always screw things up_, he thought. _Way to go, dumbass._

"Oops, I'm so sorry! I'm a hugger, and sometimes I get a little carried away."

"No, no, it's no problem," Kurt said a little warily. "I'm often randomly hugged by strange men."

"You're just saying that to be nice."

Kurt laughed. "Yeah, I am, but that's okay. It's really no big deal. It's nice to be hugged once in awhile. So…" he said, changing the subject. "Bentley?"

"Oh! Yes, of course, right this way." Blaine brought Kurt up to the front desk and introduced him to the older lady sitting behind it. "Shirley, this is Kurt. He'd like to adopt Bentley."

"Excellent. I'll take care of Kurt, and Blaine, will you bring Bentley up to one of the holding cages here while we get the paperwork sorted?"

Blaine knew that Kurt would be filling out forms for a little while, so he took the opportunity to brush Bentley and make his fur shine for his new owner. "I feel bad that I won't get to see you anymore, buddy," he said to the cat, "but I've got a good feeling about this guy. I think you and he will be good friends."

Kurt was dotting the last i and crossing the last t when Blaine emerged from the cat room, placing Bentley in a holding cage near the front desk before crossing over to Kurt. "He's all ready for you."

"Good!" Shirley said, obviously not noticing that Blaine was pretty much only speaking to Kurt at that moment. "I just need to check Mr. Hummel's references and then we'll be able to collect the adoption fee and send Bentley on his way to his new home."

A half hour and several hundred dollars in adoption fees and cat food and supplies later, Bentley was nestled in a sleek new cat carrier and ready to begin his new life as Kurt's furry companion.

"This is it, I guess," Blaine said as he reached a finger through the grid of Bentley's carrier, gently scratching the cat's fuzzy head. "I'll miss you, buddy. Be good for Kurt, and he'll be good to you."

Kurt shuffled uncomfortably. "Um, thanks a lot, Blaine. I appreciate all you've done to help me."

"Just give him a good home, okay? He's one of my favorites and I'm kind of sad to see him go."

"I promise I will."

Kurt and Blaine stood in silence for a moment before Blaine got the courage to say, "Well, goodbye. And good luck!"

"Thanks. Um, bye."

Kurt headed off to the parking lot, and Blaine turned to go back to his duties. Before he could get all the way back inside, he had a brainstorm. "Shirley! I'm taking a break – I'll be back in fifteen!"

Before Shirley could say a word, Blaine dashed out the door into the parking lot. Kurt was still there working out how he would fit the cat carrier in his car in the safest way.

"With most small cars like yours, that size carrier perfectly fits between the back of the seat and the dash in the passenger seat so it won't fly anywhere. Though if you don't want him up front with you, if you pull the passenger seat up a bit, it'll fit on the floor in the back," Blaine pointed out.

Kurt jumped at the sound of Blaine's voice. "Ooh, you scared me," he said. "But thanks, I appreciate the advice." Kurt stepped back to consider his options. "I think I'll put him in the back. It feels like he'd be safer back there."

He fit the carrier between the seats and shut the door securely. "Well, I guess that's it." He moved to the driver's side of the car, but then he seemed to remember that Blaine had not walked out of the building with him, that he came out later.

"Um, can I help you with something? I mean, did you have a reason to be out here other than giving me some good travel advice?"

"What? Oh, um…" Blaine stalled. "Um, I normally don't do this, but I thought maybe I could give you my number? You know, in case you have any questions or anything. Like I said, he's one of my favorites, so…"

Kurt immediately felt a little disappointed. _Damn. Was kinda hoping he would be asking for MY number instead of giving me his just to talk about the cat. _"Of course, thank you. I don't really know a whole lot about caring for a cat, but I'm sure he and I will figure it out together. I'll let you know if I need you."

Blaine nodded as he handed Kurt a slip of paper with his name and number on it. _Please need me._

Kurt hopped in the driver's seat and waved as he drove away. Blaine trudged reluctantly back into the building, kicking himself for being too shy to even find out if Kurt was gay.

**xXxXxXx**

The moment Kurt released the latch on the carrier, Bentley was out like a shot, searching. Within minutes, Bentley was holed up in the far back corner underneath Kurt's bed. Kurt could've kicked himself for not taking the time to close a few doors before he let the cat out. Shirley had warned him that most cats would hide for long periods of time when arriving in a brand new environment, so he busied himself with making room in his life for his new friend.

Kurt set up the litter pan in his laundry room and set the shiny new food and water bowls on the floor in his kitchen. He had read once that cats don't like to use the litter box where they ate, and he really, really couldn't blame them, so he was more than happy to create separate areas for Bentley.

After filling the water and food dishes, Kurt grabbed a bag of treats, shaking it enticingly and calling, "Here Kitty Kitty!" He was hoping to take advantage of his "chowhound" status and appeal to his stomach to get him to come out, but no such luck. He sighed and put the treats away, and then he went about his own chores for the evening.

Every so often, he would check under the bed to see if anything had changed. But nothing had; every time he looked, he would be met with a pair of shining green eyes staring back at him. He went to bed, and in the morning he woke up hoping that the cat would sense a warm body in the bed and join him, but no such luck. He checked the litter box and food dishes – no sign of use.

He sighed heavily. "Okay, Bentley. Everything you need is sitting out ready for you if you'd just come out and get it. I'm going to work now. I'll be back in about nine hours." He stopped abruptly, feeling silly for talking to a cat that wasn't even in the room with him. Without another word, he grabbed his messenger bag and headed out the door to begin his day.

Two more days went by with no change in the situation.

"Come ON, boy, you've GOT to be getting hungry. And how do you not need to pee by now? I can barely go three HOURS, let alone three days. Damn you cats are stubborn!"

Kurt sat at his kitchen table with his head in his hand, thinking. He had no clue what to do. He had done some research; nearly everything he read suggested that in most instances, the cat would have ventured out to explore his new surroundings long before now.

_I wonder if I should call the shelter and ask for advice?_ he thought. Finally, a little lightbulb in his head flickered on. "Oh, way to go, dumbass," he said out loud to himself as he remembered a little slip of paper a beautiful curly-haired someone handed him as he took his kitty home with him. "You are NOT smarter than a fifth grader, I swear to god," he chastised himself, shaking his head.

He went to his bedroom where he had stuck the piece of paper to the mirror. The mirror had become somewhat of a bulletin board over the years where he kept his most important things. He had made an unconscious decision that Blaine's number was a "most important thing" and placed it there rather than on the fridge where he usually put things like phone numbers.

Kurt stood in front of his mirror, staring at the number and willing himself to just put on his big boy briefs and dial the damn number already. He punched in the digits, but his thumb hovered over the green call button.

If Kurt's inner voice could have done so, it would've reached out and pressed the button for him, because it was sure angry at him for not having done so already. "Okay, okay, fine!" he said. "Oh great. First I talk to an empty room, now I'm talking to myself. Real smooth, Hummel." Putting himself out of his misery, he forced himself to press the call button, and then he put it on speaker and set it down so he couldn't "accidentally" press the disconnect button.

It rang once, twice, three times. Kurt was just about convinced that he wouldn't pick up when in the middle of the fourth ring, just before most phones would've gone to voicemail, the call connected.

"Hello?"

Kurt, not thinking that he'd actually get Blaine on the first try, was at a momentary loss for words.

"Hello?" Blaine called again. "Who is this? Cooper, if that's you pranking me again, I swear to god I'm going to kick your ass into next week the next – "

Kurt hurriedly picked up the phone and turned off the speaker. "Um, Blaine?"

"Oh there IS someone there. Hi! Who's this?"

"I don't know if you remember me, but I adopted Bentley a couple – "

"Oh Kurt! Hi! How is Bentley?"

Kurt smiled when Blaine greeted him by name, clearly pleased that Blaine remembered him.

"Well, that's just it. He's STILL under my bed. He hasn't moved one inch since we got home the first day. As far as I can tell, his food, water, and litter have all gone untouched."

"Oh no. Well, Bentley has always been one of the shyer cats we've had, but I would've thought he'd given up sulking by now. And you don't want him to get dehydrated."

There was a long pause, but Kurt didn't feel comfortable filling it, so he waited patiently for Blaine to speak again. "Tell you what," Blaine finally said. "I hate to just invite myself over, but maybe I could come over and see if I could get him to come out?

Kurt hesitated. On one hand, oh YES, YES, HELL YES! but on the other, Blaine, in his house? Oh my god, the place was a mess, what would Blaine think of him, and –

"Kurt? Are you still there?"

"Oh, um yeah! Yeah, I think it's probably time to admit defeat, here." Kurt recited his address to Blaine and they agreed on a time for Blaine to come over.

"My shift here gets done in about an hour, so I'll see you about 7?"

"Yes, that sounds fine. Thank you."

They hung up, and Kurt flew round his house making sure that everything was neat and tidy and just so. Especially since Blaine would be in his bedroom.

Oh god, his bedroom.

Kurt trudged out into the living room, conceding that his house was as good as it was going to get, and plopped himself down on the couch. He played a couple of rounds of Draw Something on his phone and he was just about to turn on the TV for a distraction when his ears caught a foreign sound.

_Skritch skritch… skritch skritch._

He furrowed his eyebrows trying to think of what it might be. Not coming up with any ideas, and no longer hearing the odd sound, he shrugged his shoulders and again went to turn on the TV.

Again he heard a strange sound, this time coming from the kitchen.

_What the hell?_

Kurt got up from his seat on the sofa and crept quietly to the kitchen. It wasn't quite dark in his house, but it was dark enough to create shadows, and there indeed was a dark shadow in the corner that had not been there the previous evening.

He reached around the corner, flipped the switch, and…

"BENTLEY!"

Startled, the cat spun his head around, mid-crunch if the scattered kitty kibbles had anything to say about it, and stared at Kurt with extremely guilty looking green eyes.

"You little brat! Have you been sneaking out this whole time?" Kurt leaned up against the doorway. "It's like you knew Blaine was coming and decided to make a fool out of me, didn't you?"

Bentley tipped his head and went back to burrowing through the dry cat food bowl, occasionally selecting a bit he deemed worthy enough to eat.

_Knock knock knock_

"That'll be Blaine," Kurt said, and he jogged to the front door to open it. On his way there, Kurt caught sight of a well used litter box in the laundry room out of the corner of his eye. _Well, I guess that was the skritch skritch noise I heard._

Kurt yanked open the door for Blaine. "Hi," he said a bit breathlessly, and not because he had just jogged to the door.

"Hi yourself!" Blaine said cheerfully. For just having gotten off a shift at an animal shelter, he looked absolutely amazing, and Kurt was having trouble forming words.

"Oh, pardon me?" Kurt said, clearly having missed something Blaine was saying.

"I was just asking where Bentley's holed up."

Kurt shook his head. "Would you believe not long after I called you, the little snot snuck out of the bedroom and scared me by making all these totally normal cat noises that I wasn't expecting to hear? I found him at the food dish, munching away."

Blaine laughed warmly. "I totally believe it. Cats _KNOW_, I know they do. They are totally in tune with what will make their humans look the most stupid."

"It worked. I feel like a total moron calling you here for nothing."

"Well, I wouldn't call it _nothing_. I wouldn't mind seeing him again. I missed him around the shelter the last couple of days."

"Sure! We can do that!"

Both men stood staring at each other.

"Um, could I maybe come in?"

"Huh? Oh for crying out loud," Kurt cried. "I don't know what has turned me into a blithering idiot, but I apologize. Please, come in."

Blaine chuckled. "Don't worry about it." He stepped inside the doorway and looked around Kurt's home. "Wow, your place is beautiful! Did you decorate it yourself?"

"Guilty!"

"Damn, I am impressed! I should have you do my place. Well, I would, if my mom hadn't decorated it. She thinks herself an interior designer and I haven't the heart to tell her she's not. I'm not home much, so it doesn't bother me."

"Wild social life?" Kurt asked impulsively. He couldn't believe he had just said that.

Blaine had a good laugh. "Hardly! No, I just spend a lot of time around the shelter. My life is dead boring otherwise, so I just hang out with my furry friends. They don't seem to mind. Enough about me, though. How about you?"

"Me? Oh, no. The most excitement in my life is trying to figure out which housewife will be the most desperate this week and whether or not Tyra's head will spin around like Linda Blair when she has one of her hissy fits."

Blaine grinned. "I have to admit, I do the same thing. I thought we were even going to get the green projectile vomit during last week's episode. She was on FIRE!"

Kurt shuddered. "Well, now if THAT wasn't a revolting mental picture!"

"Oops, sorry!" Blaine apologized. "Sometimes I tend to word vom – oh, bad choice of words. Don't mind me. I hang with the animals too long and lose my people skills."

Kurt laughed softly. "I hear ya. I'm alone so often that I adopted a cat for the captive audience."

Blaine perked up internally at Kurt's confession. "So, no roommates to break up the monotony?"

"Nope, it's just me. And Bentley, now. But I haven't exactly gotten a chance to practice my conversational skills because SOMEONE HAS BEEN PLAYING ME THIS WHOLE TIME!" Kurt turned and called down the hallway.

Blaine burst out laughing. "You crack me up, Kurt! So, Bentley. Can I see him?"

"Yeah, sure." Kurt led him to the kitchen. "He was in here Hoovering up the dry food bowl when the doorbell ra… dammit, Bentley, where'd you go?"

Blaine stood behind him trying to stifle a giggle.

"Yeah yeah yeah, laugh it up. You're not the one who's being made a fool of by a CAT." He walked down the hallway called for the cat. "Bentley! Where are you? Here kitty kitty!"

Blaine stood in the doorway of the kitchen watching Kurt. "He's not going to come when you call him unless you have food, you know. He's a _cat."_

Kurt slumped up against the wall next to Blaine. "You're right. C'mon. He's probably back where he started." Kurt was so frustrated by the cat that he forgot to feel nervous that Blaine would be in his room.

"Oh, I like this!" Blaine exclaimed as he entered the room. "And my phone number, place of honor on the mirror? I'm flattered."

Kurt blushed deep red and chose to ignore Blaine's comment at that moment.

"Go right ahead and take a look – he's probably in the back corner under the bed."

Blaine dropped to his hands and knees and crouched low to peek underneath the bed. Which oh so conveniently gave Kurt a _great_ view of his ass….ets. _Oh hot damn_, he thought. His knees felt a little weak and he had a hard time keeping his hands to himself. He was so tempted to reach out and grab a nice –

"Well, I can't get him to come out, either," Blaine said as he got to his feet and turned to face Kurt, "but I think now that he's been out at least once, he'll gradually stay out for longer periods of time."

"And now that we know he's a dirty little sneak, I won't have to worry about him so much," Kurt said wryly.

"Something tells me you will keep each other on your toes, though."

"You're probably right."

"Well, I've got to be going. For once in my life, I actually have plans tonight!"

Kurt couldn't stop himself from feeling a little bit crushed. "Hot date?" he teased.

"Sure do!"

_Damn. _"Oh," he said, not without a little disappointment in his tone. "Well I'll let you – "

"With my brother," Blaine continued. "He just got the newest Halo game and he's insisting I help him break it in."

_Oh thank god._

"I can't even begin to tell you how many times my brother Finn has dragged me into a game of Halo," Kurt complained. "I don't know why he keeps bothering. I kick his ass every single time."

Blaine perked up. "REALLY now? I never would've guessed it!"

"Never judge a book by its cover, Blaine."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Kurt and Blaine slowly approached Kurt's front door. They stood silent for a moment, not knowing what to say. Finally, Kurt broke the silence.

"So, would you like to come back again? You know, to visit Bentley?" Kurt asked shyly.

"I'd love that. And maybe I could visit with his owner some, too, next time?"

"He'd like that, too."

Long pause…

"So… I'll talk to you later?" Kurt asked.

"Absolutely. I'll call you. Soon," Blaine confirmed.

"Sounds great. Have a good time with your brother."

"I will! Goodnight!" Blaine turned and jogged to his car.

"Goodnight," Kurt said softly, but Blaine was already too far away to hear him.

Kurt shut the door and spun around to lean up against it. Bentley came slinking through the room on his way to who knows where.

"YOU! You planned this the whole time, didn't you?" Kurt accused him.

Bentley sat on his haunches a few feet in front of Kurt and stared at him. He casually licked a paw and bathed his whiskers and then stared at Kurt some more. Slowly Bentley tilted his head, still watching Kurt, and closed one eye in a wink.

Kurt's jaw dropped, just for a moment. He shook his head and stalked off to his bedroom, mumbling something about being "fucking crazy" for thinking his cat was trying to communicate with him.

Bentley watched Kurt stomp down the hallway, his mouth forming what almost looked like a smile. Then, with a flip of his tail, he sauntered off to the kitchen, eager to catch up on all the eating he hadn't done in his sacrifice.


	2. The First Date

**By popular demand, I came up with another chapter. I have ideas for two more (and I'm sorry, but I don't have them written so there is no posting schedule for them - you'll get them when you get them), and then it's DEFINITELY going to be done.**

**xXxXxXx**

Moments after Kurt had retreated to his bedroom, Kurt's pocket started playing Lady Gaga's _Born This Way_. Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he looked down at the display in surprise. Blaine!

He tapped the answer button and greeted his crush. "Blaine? I didn't expect to hear from you this fast. Did you leave something behind?"

"Nope! I said I would call you soon, so… no time like the present, right?" Blaine said brightly. Kurt's face curved up into a big grin, and he could tell Blaine was smiling as he spoke, too.

"No time like the present," he agreed.

"So, do you think Bentley would mind if I stole his new daddy away for dinner sometime this week? Like, maybe Thursday?"

Kurt was glad he was on the other end of a phone line and not in Blaine's presence because the little jig of victory he did was NOT something he wanted Blaine to see. _Play it cool, Hummel,_ he admonished himself.

"Well, he might be a little heartbroken that you chose me over him, but I think I'll get over it. I've got a bag of the _fancy_ cat chow with his name on it; a bowl of that and he'll be putty in my hands. And then I'll be all yours." _Shit, that wasn't playing it cool._

Blaine chuckled. "Sounds great to me. I'll pick you up around six?"

"I can do that. Where are we going?"

"Ah ah ah, I can't tell you that. It wouldn't be a surprise!" More like, Blaine had jumped so quickly to call Kurt that he hadn't even though of where he would take him.

"I don't much like surprises, Blaine."

"Oh, but this one will be a good one. I promise."

Kurt sighed. "Okay. But can you at least give me a dress code?"

Blaine paused to think for a moment. "Wear something like you're wearing right now."

Giggling, Kurt asked, "What if I took off all my clothes between the time you left and the time you called?"

Blaine barely… just _barely_… bit back a groan. The mental picture that immediately flashed into his head nearly short circuited his brain. Recovering quickly, he said, "Not likely. You're wearing some sort of zippered and buckled concoction with at least three layers. I called you after like, two minutes. Unless you're Houdini, I'm calling bullshit."

Kurt burst out into laughter. "Touché, Blaine, touché."

Blaine joined Kurt in his mirth. "Okay, so anyway – Thursday at six?"

"It's a date!" Kurt had to refrain from giggling giddily once again. "See you then!"

"Bye Kurt!"

Kurt tapped the disconnect button and tossed the phone on his dresser. He fell backwards on the bed and did the kicky-feet thing as soon as his feet were no longer touching the floor, though he did not allow himself to squeal. He wanted to retain his dignity around Blaine and he could NOT let himself fall into any bad habits.

Bentley meandered into the room and sat staring at his silly human on the bed as he bathed his whiskers after his dinner. He paused mid-paw swipe and tilted his head, looking at Kurt almost questioningly.

"You know, cat, one would almost think you were human, the way you act," Kurt addressed him. "I don't know if I should throttle you for making me look like a moron or hug you and squeeze you and call you George for getting Blaine over here so he could ask me out." Kurt sighed and stared right back at the cat, who was doing his best to look all innocent-like. "I _suppose_ I could compromise and allow you to sit on my lap. Give me just a minute and I'll change into some more feline-friendly clothes."

Kurt hurriedly stripped off the buckled jacket he wore (Blaine was wrong – he could most certainly get out of this outfit quickly if he had the correct motivation) and tossed it and his pants on the bed. He turned to his dresser to get a soft tee and lounge pants out of the pajama drawer. It only took a minute, but as Kurt's head was peeking through the neckhole of the shirt, he noticed a black furry lump already curled up on his jacket. Bentley stared at Kurt unwaveringly, challenging him to say just _one word _about the great still-warm spot he just found.

"Dammit, Bentley, get up! Off!" he ordered, pointing toward the floor. Bentley just stared at him, as if he was saying, _Really, now?_

"Oh, who am I kidding?" Kurt said, stomping over to where Bentley sat and picking the furry beast up unceremoniously off the jacket and plopping him on the floor. Bentley wiggled his butt and prepared to jump back up on the jacket, but Kurt snatched it away and said, "Not so fast, Furface." Bentley jumped up on the bed, and finding the jacket missing, he chose to sit his butt dead center on Kurt's pillow.

"I have met my match, apparently," he mused. He made a mental note to get out a new pillowcase before bedtime and went to retrieve his lint roller, intending to brush the worst of the cat hair off the jacket before returning it to his closet.

**xXxXxXx**

Thursday came quickly, and at 5:30pm, Kurt was still standing in front of his closet, desperately willing inspiration to strike. He flipped through the garments for what felt like the thirtieth time, and for quite possibly the thirtieth time, he reached the end of the closet rod with no more ideas than he had the previous times.

"_SHIT._ He's going to be here in half an hour and I still have NOTHING to wear. Think, Hummel, _THINK!"_

Bentley wandered into the room, his tail standing proudly, straight up in the air aside from the permanent kink in the tip. Kurt watched him as he went into the corner of the room and sat on a plaid cushion that Kurt had set there for him to sleep on.

"Wow, that's the first time you've ever sat on anything actually intended for cats," he said.

Kurt watched as the cat circled once, twice, three times and kneaded the fabric with his paws to make it comfortable. "That plaid looks good against your fur… plaid… I've GOT it!" he exclaimed.

Kurt raced to the closet in the foyer, nearly falling as his sock feet slid on the tile floor in his haste. He yanked open the door and scanned the items hanging inside. "YES!" he cheered when he found what he was looking for. The item in question was a plaid blazer – Kurt had recently gotten it cleaned, but after he had picked it up from the drycleaners, he had only had just enough time to hang it in the hall closet before he had to leave the house again, and by the time he had a moment to move it to his bedroom closet, he had forgotten it was even there.

"I can wear this with my navy turtleneck and my distressed skinny jeans and…" He raced back to his room and dug through his jewelry box. "The gold brooch. Perfect!"

Kurt looked at the black and white lump in the corner of the room. "You might actually be of some use to me after all, cat. You're certainly good with fashion emergencies."

Bentley looked up at Kurt sleepily, yawning big and sending a large dose of cat food breath in Kurt's direction.

"Ugh, I take that back. You need a kitty breath mint, STAT."

Kurt glanced over at the alarm clock sitting on his nightstand. 5:47. "CRAP!" He danced around his room, with a toothbrush full of toothpaste in his mouth while he was trying to tug on fresh underwear and then the frustratingly tight jeans. On a GOOD day he had to shoehorn himself into them – the fact that he managed to get them on so quickly was an act of God or something. He rinsed and spat, thankful he still hadn't put on a shirt because the toothpaste half drooled down his chin. He grabbed the towel off the rack and ran into his bedroom to toss on his shirt and jacket.

He sat down at his vanity after dressing to fix his hair – it was mostly styled, still, but he had some touchups to do. "Please be late, please be late, please be late…" he chanted as he sprayed his hair into place, racing to be ready on time.

At exactly 6pm, he strolled out of his bedroom and the doorbell rang. Kurt paused briefly to take a deep breath and take one last glance at his appearance in the mirror behind the door. Once he was satisfied, he pulled open the door.

Kurt felt his jaw drop at the sight of Blaine on the other side. Blaine was dressed in a maroon cardigan, striped shirt, and tight black jeans. His hair was curlier than he had seen before, but still tamed and it looked SO good on him.

"… Kurt?" Blaine waved his hand in front of Kurt's face.

"Oh! … _hi_!" Kurt said, feeling stupid.

"You look amazing, Kurt!" Blaine complimented him.

"Thank you. You look like – _shit!_"

"… what?" Blaine's face fell, looking down at his outfit. "I know you're into fashion, but I didn't think I looked that bad… ?"

"NO! Oh my god, no – you look STUNNING, Blaine, but SHIT – the _cat_ got out!" Kurt shoved past Blaine and ran outside after Bentley. Blaine spun around on his heel and followed close behind Kurt. "I've got to get him before he runs out in the street and gets hit. The teenagers in this neighborhood drive like maniacs – I'm amazed they haven't killed someone yet. I don't want him to be their first victim."

"Wait, Kurt! Do you have any treats or anything that might convince him to come back here?"

"The only time Bentley ever comes running towards me is when I open the morning cat food can. For some reason, he won't touch cat treats."

"You go inside and get a can of food for him – we'll see if he responds to the sound of you cracking open the lid."

"I refuse to reward him for running away!"

"We'll just trick him. Once we catch him, you can seal it up and serve it to him tomorrow. Hurry, though – he's exploring closer to the street." Blaine pointed toward a bush just at the edge of the sidewalk bordering Kurt's lawn.

"Okay, I'll be right back!" Kurt quickly disappeared inside of the house, and Blaine went out into the yard to try to retrieve the cat. Bentley let Blaine get about four feet in front of him and then he took off, Blaine giving chase.

"Blaine, Blaine, Blaine. I never thought there'd come a day where I'd see you chasing pussy," Sebastian said smugly.

Blaine stopped in his tracks at the sound of the voice. Looking up, he cringed when he saw who the voice belonged to. Sebastian Smythe, ex (thank God) boyfriend and asshole extraordinaire.

"Better to be chasing pussy than stuffed up one like the douchenozzle that you are!" Blaine shot back at him.

"You wound me, Blaine, seriously wound me."

Behind them, Kurt had come back out into the yard and had heard every word of the conversation. He was only partially successful in stifling his giggles over the douchenozzle line. He would definitely be storing that one away in his mental insult database.

Blaine whipped around at the sound of Kurt's laugh. "Hi Kurt!" he said, a little too cheerfully, as if he'd been caught doing something wrong. "Sebastian, meet my – "

"Smythe, how many times have I told you, I don't care for _trash_ littering my yard?"

"You know each other?" Blaine asked.

"We, unfortunately, are neighbors," Kurt confirmed. "But, I suppose, every neighborhood has its undesirables. How do _you_ two know each other?"

"Ex-boyfriend," Blaine said hurriedly. "Ex ex EX boyfriend."

"Aww Blainers, I'm hurt! I always knew I was too much for you."

"Too much trouble, too much heartache, too much asshattery, too much EVERYTHING in this world that sucks."

Sebastian burst out into laughter and was _just_ about to make a snarky comment when Blaine realized what he said.

"Don't EVEN fucking go there, Sebastian."

"Okay, fine. I'll give you that one."

"I'd rather you give us the gift of your hasty departure, Smythe," Kurt said sternly, his hands on his hips.

"Oh look at you, Mr. Hard Luck Case of the Gay Face. You look like you'rejust about ready to give me the diva z-snap."

"GO!" Kurt snapped at him and pointed towards Sebastian's home.

"Well fine," Sebastian said with mock hurt in his voice. "I know when I'm not wanted." He began laughing again as he went back to his house, doing the z-snap he mentioned as he walked away.

"I hate that weasel," Kurt grumbled under his breath.

"Me too."

"You dated him!"

"Yeah, back in high school when I was young, dumb, and apparently desperate! I like to think my taste has improved exponentially by then!"

"Well, yeah, _look_ at me!"

Blaine watched as Kurt twirled in place. _I am most DEFINITELY looking._

Blaine was just about to wolf whistle when a black and white streak flew past them. _SHIT!_ the cat was still out.

"C'mon! Let's quick grab him so we can still make our dinner reservations," Kurt urged Blaine.

Blaine and Kurt came up with a plan; they would each approach Bentley from the opposite direction, hopefully trapping him between them.

Kurt cracked open the cat food can that he was still holding, and as predicted, it sent Bentley running… but in the wrong direction.

"Dammit!" Kurt yelled. He and Blaine went their separate ways and wandered aimlessly around the property, hoping to trick the cat into thinking they were no longer paying attention to him, but in reality, they were so obvious that even Bentley knew something up and was on his guard.

Blaine and Kurt looked at each other from opposite sides of the yard. Kurt raised his eyebrow, and Blaine nodded once in response, and then they both began trotting toward Bentley. Bentley stayed still in his place, watching the silly men come towards him, and moments before they were about to catch him, he bolted out of the way. It was too late for Kurt and Blaine to correct their course, however, and they crashed into each other.

Blaine had more momentum, so he mowed Kurt over backward, causing him to land right on top of Kurt.

"Ooof!" Kurt said as Blaine's weight settled on top of him.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry, I couldn't stop, are you okay?" Blaine babbled. It was then that he realized how close to Kurt he really was. He had landed in the perfect position to look directly into Kurt's eyes. "Hi," he said softly.

Kurt noticed that Blaine was right. there. And whenever he spoke or exhaled, Kurt could feel Blaine's warm breath right on his own face. "Hi," he said in response.

They stared at each other for a few moments before Blaine lowered his head just enough to connect his lips with Kurt's. _Oh god that feels good,_ he thought as Kurt began to respond, reaching up with one hand to pull Blaine's head closer toward him.

They broke apart, and Blaine looked nervously at Kurt. He _thought_ Kurt was okay with the kiss judging by how Kurt brought them closer together for a deeper kiss, but it wasn't 'til Kurt smiled brightly that he was able to match it with his own. He was just about to go in for kiss number two when…

"meYOW!" Bentley hollered.

Startled, Blaine rolled off Kurt and landed on his back on the lawn alongside him. "Demanding little brat, isn't he?" Blaine remarked.

Kurt sighed and hopped to his feet to see if he could catch the cat once and for all. He scanned the yard only to find Bentley lounging right on the front stoop waiting for him, glaring at him and yawning as if to say, What the hell is taking so long? Let me IN already!

Kurt approached the step carefully, assuming that once he was within reach, Bentley would take off again, but the cat allowed Kurt to pick him up.

"You are such an asshole, you know that, cat?" he said.

Blaine walked up behind them, brushing errant blades of grass off his pants. He stood next to Kurt and gave him a peck on the lips while he took Bentley from Kurt. Bentley cuddled up in Blaine's arms and began rubbing his face against Blaine's, purring all the while.

"Yeah, sure, make me kiss the most adorable man this side of the Rocky Mountains," Blaine said to the cat. "Yep, _such_ an asshole!"

Kurt shook his head. He would never understand his furry companion, but he couldn't be mad at him, either.

"Well, we're definitely going to miss our dinner reservations," he said with disappointment. "I could cook something here?"

Blaine grinned. "That sounds perfect."

"Mrow," Bentley agreed.


	3. The Proposal

Blaine walked around the shelter's cat area for the third time in ten minutes. If it was possible for him to wear a path in the floor from the rooms to the cages to the reception area to the storage area, he would've done it by then.

Shirley watched him from the front desk. Blaine's restlessness was starting to take a toll on everyone, and she found herself fidgeting in her seat.

"ENOUGH!" she called, and Blaine stopped dead in his tracks to stare at her.

"You are annoying the hell out of me, boy! What in the world is going on?"

Blaine began to grin. "It's time," he said.

"It's time?" she repeated, confused. Understanding dawned on her a moment later, and she smiled. She and Blaine had been gossiping about his plans for awhile now, but they had never had a definite action date on them before today. "Really?"

Blaine nodded furiously.

"Well, no WONDER you're as nervous as a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs! Go! Get out of here! There's only an hour left of your shift, and it's quiet here today."

Blaine had noticed, and it was probably a good thing. While it was depressing that no potential adopters were there to see the cats at that moment, there was no way he'd've been able to compose himself long enough to be of any service to anyone.

"Thanks Shirley!" he said, leaning over to grab his messenger bag from the cubby behind her desk. He gave her a peck on the cheek and dashed out the door.

"Good luck!" she called after him, but he was so fast he was already out the door.

He stopped at the grocery store and got the ingredients for Kurt's favorite dish (which, thankfully, was the only dish he felt confident in making) as well as a beautiful tiramisu for dessert. It was exorbitantly priced, and Blaine cringed when he pulled out his wallet, but he prayed it would all be worth it.

He stuffed the bags of food in the trunk of his car and just barely managed not to peel out of the parking lot. He drove home as fast as he dared; thankfully traffic was light and law enforcement was scarce, and he pulled into his driveway, _their_ driveway, safely.

They hadn't even finished their first date before they agreed they wanted to be exclusive, and it hadn't been long at all before Kurt was (reluctantly) clearing space in his closets to accommodate Blaine's things. After eight months, it was still early in their relationship, but whether it was eight days, eight months, or eight years, it mattered not – tonight's plans still felt so very _right._

He put on Kurt's Kiss the Cook apron that hung on the hook in the kitchen and got to work putting together the ingredients for that night's dinner. Once the casserole dish of chicken and pasta had been slid in the oven and forty-five minutes had been put on the timer, Blaine raced upstairs to take a fast shower and change into clothes more appropriate for an evening with his love.

He emptied the contents of his pockets, including one _very_ important item, into the silver tray on the dresser. He debated setting out his outfit that he had put together in his head at work, but he remembered that it was light colored and that Bentley was VERY fond of claiming outfits that were laid out unguarded.

Blaine dashed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him to keep the cat out, and began his shower.

As soon as he got under the water, the cat in question entered the room. He sniffed Blaine's shoes, always interested in the new smells of other animals, but he abandoned them quickly, sensing that there was something infinitely more interesting to explore elsewhere in the room.

He jumped up onto the bed, beginning his search for the _something_ that he just knew was around there somewhere, but aside from the jacket that Blaine had tossed on the bedspread, there was nothing to see. Bentley quickly nosed the pockets to see if Blaine had left any food inside them but came up empty. He contemplated sleeping on it as it was still warm, but as they say, curiosity killed the cat, and while he wasn't dead or anything, his curiosity was most definitely getting the better of him.

He sat on the bed for a moment and washed a spot on his snow white chest. When he finished, he scanned the room. _Aha, the dresser_. The shiny little dish right in the middle was usually empty when he looked, but not this time.

The dresser was a small bit of a distance away from the bed, but Bentley thought he could do it. He wiggled his butt furiously (Bentley wasn't sure why his fellow felines wiggled their butts when they jumped, but it seemed like everybody did it, so…) and with a mighty leap, he landed heavily on the top of the dresser. His front paws skidded slightly into the silver tray, making its contents jingle invitingly. He didn't even waste a sniff on the little rectangle that lit up, sang songs, and buzzed or the foldy thing that smelled like cow and held a bunch of pieces of paper and plastic, and the metal circle with all the long jagged sticks on it held no interest for him today.

But, ho! There was something new today, and Bentley was very much interested in the small object. A hard, shiny golden circle with several sparkly white things stuck in it. Bentley LOVED shiny, sparkly things. He touched it gingerly with his paw. It moved. It appeared to be the perfect weight to bat around with his paw. He gave it a slight nudge, and it hit the lip of the dish. He tapped it a bit harder, and it jumped over the edge of the dish and landed on the wooden dresser with a satisfying thunk. _Oh, this would be fun_, the cat decided.

With a mighty whack, the cat sent the tiny object flying to the wood floor with a clatter. He liked that sound very much.

He bounded down from the dresser to the bed to the floor and began an epic game of floor hockey with the little golden circle. He had just hit it under the bed and was crawling under it to look for it when Blaine rushed out of the bathroom, his hair soaking wet and the towel around his waist barely hanging on, leaving wet footprints all over the floor. He stopped in front of the closet and began second guessing his outfit choice. Bentley could hear the man mumbling to himself and flipping through the hangers in the closet while he nosed around underneath the bed looking for his treasure.

Bentley was having a hard time locating his new toy – he must've really hit that thing hard. He sniffed a dustbunny and sneezed delicately. Blaine didn't hear him; he was completely oblivious to his surroundings and didn't even know Bentley was in the room.

Blaine finally decided on his outfit, which, incidentally, was the same outfit he had agonized over and put together days before. He tossed on his clothes and dashed back into the bathroom to address his unruly 'do, cursing his hair and his lack of time the whole way.

The cat stumbled upon a small, partially full bottle of a clear liquid underneath the bed as he continued his search. He touched it with his paw and it rolled away from him. Bentley thought maybe he'd play with that if he didn't find the metal circle; he'd seen the little bottle before, but it usually was locked up tight in the nightstand next to the bed, and he never had the chance to check it out before now.

The swearing from the bathroom stopped and Blaine re-entered the room, looking considerably more put together than usual. He sat down on the bed to pull on some socks and grabbed a pair of his seldom-worn dress shoes from the shoe rack in the closet before stopping in front of the dresser. He stuffed the cell phone and wallet in his pockets, left his keys in the tray because he wasn't planning on leaving the house that evening, and…

"SHIT! Where is it?" he said, his voice betraying his panic. Bentley could hear the sounds of Blaine shuffling through the other items on the dresser. "FUCK FUCK FUCK! This can't be happening!" He pulled open each drawer and ran his hands through the items in each one, searching. He dropped to the floor and peered under the dresser but came up empty. Blaine got up off the floor and sat on the bed, his elbows on his knees and his hands grasping his no longer perfectly styled hair.

_Ahh, THERE it is!_ thought the cat, and he began batting it around again. A particularly hard whack sent the object skittering out from under the bed and across the floor, right into…

"Blaine, honey? I saw the flowers in the entry, they're BEAUTIFUL. What's the occa – "

A small piece of metal hit his shoe with a quiet thud. " – sion?" Blaine looked up at Kurt just as Kurt squatted down and picked up the item that hit his shoe. Bentley shot out from underneath the bed and meowed at Kurt as if to say, Hey, that's mine! Kurt examined it carefully – it was a beautiful gold ring, carefully etched with elegant scroll work and accented with several tiny diamonds.

"Blaine? Is this what I think it is?"

Blaine looked up at Kurt, at a loss for words and visibly upset. His carefully laid plans had gone straight down the crapper.

"I – " he started, but he couldn't get the thoughts to form properly in his head, so he closed his mouth and stayed silent.

Kurt handed the piece of gold to Blaine. "I think this is yours," he said.

Blaine felt his heart sink like a rock. "Don – don't you want it?" he asked, looking and sounding heartbroken.

Kurt sat down on the edge of the bed next to Blaine. He picked up his hand and pried Blaine's fingers open, setting the ring inside them and closing his fingers around it.

"Blaine, you have probably figured out by now that I am a man who is all about presentation. A meal from a four-star restaurant is no better than a meal in a sleazy dive if it's just slopped on a plate. A beautiful couture outfit is just rags if it's wrinkled like it was stuffed in the corner of a dresser drawer. A $100,000 Lamborghini is just a car if it's dirty and has dents in it.

"So I want the presentation, Blaine. I want to do this how you envisioned doing this. I saw the table set with our good dishes and the huge bouquet at the door, and I smell an amazing meal cooking in the kitchen. Please, Blaine, pretend nothing ever happened and everything is going as planned and give me the presentation."

Blaine immediately slid off the bed and dropped to the floor on one knee. Bentley, being the opportunist that he was, jumped up into the spot that Blaine had just vacated, eager to soak up the body heat Blaine had left behind.

Kurt gasped and began to protest. "But what about the flowers, dinner…"

"I don't care about that. I need to do this now – I can't wait any longer for your answer." Blaine fell silent, and he took a deep breath. He hadn't been expecting to do this until later that night, but finally he was able to get his brain to communicate with his mouth.

"This quite possibly might be the cheesiest thing I've ever said in my life, and believe me, there is some stiff competition, but I don't think my life truly began until I met you. I thought I had a decent life going on – I have a job I really like, I have some good friends, I have my music, and my brother Cooper is the best brother a guy could ever have. But then you came in, looking for a pet – "

"MEOW!" interjected Bentley.

"Excuse me, _feline companion_, and it's like the sunglasses came off. Or like that Claritin commercial where it's all fuzzy and then they peel back the screen and everything's really clear and bright and stuff and shit, I'm rambling…"

Kurt reached out to put his hand on Blaine's shoulder, and Blaine relaxed slightly. He was able to stop his ramble and get back to the task at hand.

"Anyway, I never thought I'd ever be doing something like this. I mean, it's not like I put myself out there. It's like I'm that item at the store that's on the high shelf in the corner – available, but not really noticeable. I had long since resigned myself to being single. Party of one. Me, myself, and I.

"But then there was you…" he stopped to smile and look shyly at Kurt.

"You walked in, and somehow I just knew. I just knew that you were that something that fate sent me to turn me upside down and shake up my world for the better. We haven't been together for that long, but sometimes you just _know._ I picture my life ten, twenty, thirty years down the road, and while the location and the people surrounding me may differ, there is always one constant: you're by my side in every single one of them.

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, will you do me the extreme honor of helping me make all my visions of the future come true and be my husband? Will you marry me?"

Kurt felt like he was going to cry, but he held off. He looked at Bentley, who was sitting on the bed next to him and looking at him intently, as if he understood the question that Blaine had just asked and was waiting on his answer.

"Well, what do you think, Bentley? Would you like another daddy?"

Bentley jumped down from the bed and began rubbing up against Blaine, purring furiously.

Kurt laughed sweetly. "I think that's a yes. Of course I'll marry you, Blaine. I'd like nothing more."

Blaine beamed as he took Kurt's hand and slid the ring onto Kurt's finger. It wasn't a perfect fit, but despite the fact that he had to guess, it wasn't bad.

"We can drop it off to get it resized when we go to pick up the one I ordered for you." Blaine's jaw dropped in surprise. "Yes, I was planning on proposing to YOU, but you beat me to it. Brat!"

Blaine stood up from the floor and smiled lovingly at Kurt. "I love you so much, Kurt."

"I love you too, Blaine."

Blaine leaned down and pressed his lips against Kurt's, sealing their engagement with a sweet kiss. Bentley, no longer being willing to put up with the fact that he was not the center of attention, jumped up on Kurt's lap.

"MEOW!" Bentley said, reaching a paw up to touch Kurt's chin, which caused Kurt and Blaine to break their kiss, though they were smiling as they pulled apart.

"We love you too, Bentley," they said, both kissing his fuzzy little head as he purred contently.

**xXxXxXx**

**A/N: Hopefully this isn't too bad - I think my brain is still on overload from meeting CHRIS FREAKIN' COLFER. I am now in possession of two signed copies of his book and a little boy who is over the moon because he got his pic taken with Chris. It has been a good week, ladies and gents.  
**

**There should be one more chapter after this, and then I might do an outtakes companion fic for this. I want to keep THIS fic's rating at a T where it is, and one of the outtakes I brainstormed on one of the longass car rides I've been doing this month (seriously - in July alone I've done a 5 hour round trip, a 13 hour round trip, and a 16 hour round trip - my butt wants NOTHING to do with my car seat for awhile) is most definitely NOT T rated.  
**


	4. The Wedding

"This is a bad idea. A very, very _bad_ idea," Kurt whined, worried to death that the one detail that Blaine had insisted upon for their wedding would turn to disaster.

"Relax, Kurt. I've thought it all out. It'll go swimmingly." Blaine sat nearby brushing Bentley's sleek fur. Or attempting to brush it, anyway. He was far more interested in biting, batting, and otherwise playing with the wire bristled brush than he was in sitting still to let Blaine groom his fur.

"He's a cat, Blaine. A _cat._ And we have lived with him for several years, now. Since when has he ever done anything that you wanted him to do?"

"He comes when I call him!" Blaine protested.

"He sure does. Because you only seem to actually call his name when you have a can of cat food in your hands. He's not obeying you; he's Pavlov's cat. He's conditioned to respond to the sound of that can cracking open."

Blaine chuckled. "Maybe we should have someone stand down at the end of the aisle and crack open a few cans if things start to go awry."

Kurt began to panic. "Blaine, you _promised_ nothing would go wrong! No, we can't do this. We need to change our plans. There are still a couple of hours. Quinn's little boy will be here – if we tell her to run out and grab him a basic black tux, we can have him do this and then our wedding won't be ruined and -"

Blaine sat in front of the man who would become his husband in a few short hours, gently grasping his arms and making him stop his rambling. "Honey, stop. It'll be fine. If it's not, I'll…" Blaine stopped for a moment to ponder what he could offer to placate Kurt should he be wrong and his plan backfired. "I'll buy you that Burberry coat you've been lusting over."

Kurt's eyes grew wide. He was somewhat conflicted, though. On one hand, he _really _wanted that coat, but on the other hand, it felt utterly wrong to bet against his own wedding. After a few moments, he stuck out his hand. "Deal."

After checking the time and deciding they had better get a move on, they packed Bentley into his cat carrier and tossed the brush and a few other things they'd need for him in a bag. All three of them loaded their things and themselves into the car and drove to the venue where the ceremony was to be held.

Blaine and Kurt chose a relatively plain hall to hold their combination wedding/reception in. While their lives were comfortable, they were not extravagant, so they chose to be wise with their money and cut corners where possible; in choosing the local community center, they saved a lot of money that could be put toward their honeymoon. Besides, both men knew that Kurt was a wizard with decorations and could work wonders with a few fake flowers and a roll of crepe paper (not that he WOULD, but he _could)._

The night before, Kurt had left willing friends and family with detailed instructions on how to transform the bland community room into the wedding of his dreams. His vision was well thought out, and his worker bees had carried it out to perfection; the place looked stunning, and Kurt couldn't help but shed a tear as he witnessed his brainchild come to life.

"Wow," Blaine breathed behind him. "I've got to hand it to you, love, this is more than even I expected, and I know what kind of magic to expect from you."

Kurt glanced around the large room and caught sight of the cake artist carefully placing the cake on a large round table near where the banquet tables for the reception were being set up. "Oooh, quick, honey, cover your eyes!"

"What? Why?"

"Pleeeeeaaaaaase? Just, don't look, okay? I want to show you something," Kurt said excitedly.

Blaine had left ninety percent of the details of the wedding up to Kurt. He went to food and cake tastings and offered his honest opinion, but he let Kurt make final decisions. He let Kurt decide the color scheme and made sure that his suit, one of his only responsibilities, matched. He only wanted input on the music played at both the ceremony and the reception, and Kurt was more than happy to give him free reign on that, but beyond that, he just wanted to know when and where to show up and he'd be there with (figurative, or else Kurt would kill him) bells on. Marrying Kurt was the name of the game, and all the rest was just details.

It was for this reason that Blaine had absolutely no idea what the cake Kurt ended up ordering looked like, but Kurt was obviously anxious to show him, so he dutifully covered his eyes and let himself be led to the dessert table. The excitement was vibrating through Kurt, so he knew whatever he was about to be shown was going to be good.

"Okay, one, two, three, open your eyes!" Kurt counted.

Blaine opened his eyes and was touched to discover that, while the cake itself was a very plain, slightly textured pure white fondant tiered cake, the base of each layer was adorned with one of his favorite bowties. There was the navy and red boldly striped bowtie that was meant to mimic his old prep school's straight ties, the bright solid bubblegum pink bowtie that Kurt absolutely hated and kept trying to throw away without Blaine noticing, the robin's egg blue bowtie that he got as a souvenir when they saw Daniel Radcliffe in How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, and the black with white stars bowtie that he wore on the very first Christmas holiday they spent together with Kurt's friends and family. Kurt's most interesting choice was the cake topper. It was another one of Blaine's ties: the reversible one that had a yellow square floral pattern on one side and navy with thin red and yellow stripes on the other. He had the cake decorator make it so one side of the tie showed one pattern and the other side showed the other. Blaine guessed its symbolism right away: two parts become one whole.

The cake was a mishmash of different colors and textures, but it came together as one cohesive unit, and Blaine couldn't have been more pleased. Couldn't have been more speechless either.

"Kurt, I – " his voice broke, and he swiped his hand across his eyes to try to disguise the tears that threatened to fall. "It's beautiful. I– I just love it. Thank you."

Kurt pulled Blaine into his arms and kissed him softly on his trembling lips. "Stop, honey, don't cry. We don't want you to be all red and puffy for pictures later, do we?"

Blaine took a deep breath and chuckled. "No, I guess we don't. But really, thank you. You put so much thought into that. It's incredible."

"Don't mention it. At least, don't mention it right NOW. Later, you'll be allowed to thank me for it as many times as you can handle." Kurt's voice went into his lower register as he spoke, and it caused Blaine's face to flush for an entirely different reason.

**xXxXxXx**

Kurt's friends and family shuffled him out of the hall almost as soon as they saw him. He was assured and reassured that they had everything under control and insisted that he spend the remainder of the time before the ceremony was to take place getting dressed and resting.

"Rest," he scoffed. "Like I can REST on my _wedding_ day."

"Nerves getting to you?" Blaine asked as he walked into the holding room where Kurt was pacing back and forth.

"I'm nervous only that this won't go off exactly as I have planned." He walked over to Blaine and gathered him up in his arms. "I'm _excited,_ however, to marry you."

"Good. Same here."

"There's still time to get Quinn's son. Maybe not so much get him into a tux or anything, but I saw him – Quinn's got him dressed up pretty cute. He wouldn't clash."

"No, we're going to try this," Blaine asserted. "Bentley was instrumental in getting us together, it's only right he should be here."

"Okay, if you insist. But you should start getting him ready if you haven't already done so," Kurt said. "There's not too much time before we start."

Blaine went to Bentley's cat carrier and was greeted by a very disgruntled looking cat. "_Uh oh_," he thought to himself. He pulled Bentley out of the carrier and Bentley struggled to get free. Blaine held him close to calm the flailing limbs and immediately regretted it – he was instantly covered in cat hair.

Kurt looked over at him and grinned at Blaine's predicament. "You're lucky I have the mother of all lint rollers over here. You're gonna need it."

Blaine rolled his eyes at his partner and returned his attention to the cat. After a short battle, Blaine managed to get Bentley harnessed and leashed. It was obvious, however, that Blaine had never harnessed the cat before, or he would have known what would happen once Bentley was restrained.

Kurt looked at Bentley and giggled. Bentley, in protest over the indignity of the harness, became dead weight. He huddled down in a bread loaf shape and refused to move. Blaine tugged on the leash and Bentley tipped over on his side and made absolutely no effort to right himself. Blaine picked him up and attempted to set him on his feet, but that didn't work, either; Bentley simply melted back down into a puddle on the floor. Long story short, the cat wasn't moving.

Blaine gently tugged on the leash, futilely hoping that by threatening to drag him, Bentley would all of a sudden agree to walk, but Bentley was smarter than that. He knew Blaine would never purposely drag him, so he saw no reason to get up.

"FUCK," Blaine swore.

"Now now, honey, language," Kurt scolded him, trying not to laugh directly in Blaine's face. "Never tried leashing him before?"

"No. I didn't even stop to think that he might not walk on a leash."

"Blaine, sweetie, you know way more about animals than I do, and even I know that the few cats there are that will walk on a leash are practically freaks of nature."

Blaine threw himself down in a chair, obviously for a loss at what he was going to do.

"So, what now?" Kurt ventured.

"I guess I'm just going to have to carry him down the aisle myself," Blaine said.

Kurt frowned. "But he's going to get fur all over you."

Blaine sighed in frustration. "I know. But that's just the way it's going to have to be, all right?"

"Calm down, don't snap at me."

"I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

"Always." Kurt pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and noted the time. "Come on. We need to get his bowtie on in the next few minutes or he's not going with us regardless and we'll just have to carry out own rings. I suggest you put the bow on _before_ you unharness him so he will be cooperative."

"Good plan," Blaine agreed. He pulled the cat-sized bowtie, a stunning emerald green satin one, out of his pocket and threaded the rings securely onto it. Once he had fastened it around Bentley's neck, he quickly removed the harness and wrapped his arms around the cat to corral any escaping limbs. Surprisingly, Bentley did not struggle and merely settled himself comfortably into Blaine's left arm.

"Hmm, this might actually work okay. He doesn't seem to be unhappy," Blaine said.

"Shush! Don't jinx it!"

They hurried to the door leading into the main hall and were just in time to see their ushers, Sam and Mike, closing the doors in preparation for the wedding party to enter. Kurt and Blaine had two attendants each, and they were walking down the aisle in pairs, so it would be a very short procession before they entered.

The musical cue came, and Finn and Rachel, who were standing up for Kurt, walked through the rear doors, and a moment later, Blaine's brother Cooper and his girlfriend Sarah followed.

The music changed, and it was time for Kurt and Blaine to walk down the aisle together. They went with huge smiles and heart eyes, their arms hooked together at the elbows. Bentley was calm in Blaine's arm, sniffing the air around him and looking wide-eyed at all the people in the room. Blaine was thankful that the cat appeared to be okay with his surroundings, but he internally prayed with every step he took that they could get through the ceremony unscathed.

But cats have minds of their own.

They reached the end of the aisle, and Blaine handed Bentley to Sarah to hold for him so he could focus all his attention on Kurt. But what Blaine misread as contentment was actually just the cat waiting, plotting… figuring out his next move.

The moment Blaine's grip on Bentley loosened, the cat shot out of his arms and across the room. The entire wedding party stood in shock for mere moments before both Kurt and Blaine bolted to try to catch the sneaky feline before he could cause any damage.

Blaine pulled a can of cat food out of his suit pocket ("_Really,_ Blaine?" Kurt asked, but Blaine only shrugged and went about his business) and cracked open the lid, accidently spilling some of the gravy inside on his hands. Blaine wrinkled his nose at the smell but continued to pursue the cat. Bentley had heard the familiar sound of the can opening, and while normally this would cause him to run toward the sound, he wasn't dumb – he knew this was a ruse.

Bentley jumped onto the buffet table and watched his humans slowly close in on him. There were other humans in pursuit behind him, but he wasn't worried about them. Kurt and Blaine slowly inched toward him. Their guests were on their feet behind them, holding their collective breaths. Blaine lunged toward Bentley, but he was too quick. He bounded across the table to the other end, where thankfully the Sterno-heated chafing dishes hadn't been lit yet. He sat between two of the stands, tail slowly flicking back and forth, waiting for someone to try to make a move.

Two of their guests attempted to sneak up behind Bentley to catch him, but again, they weren't quick enough, and Bentley leaped across to the cake table. He perched himself on the far edge of the table, somewhat hidden by the cake. Kurt held his breath.

While the sound they heard next wouldn't normally be any cause for concern to anyone, that day, in that moment, it made Kurt's blood run cold.

"_KITTY!" _screeched one three-year-old Camden Michael Fabray-Hart.

"Oh no," Blaine whispered.

Before anyone could fully grasp what was about to happen, the toddler ran toward the display table in hopes of getting his grabby little hands on the cat.

"CAMDEN!" Quinn yelled. "You get back here this instant!"

But the small child didn't listen to his mother. He was bound and determined to get to the interesting looking furry creature on the table as fast as his little legs could take him.

Bentley took note of Camden's imminent arrival and crouched down. The moment the child got too close for his comfort, Bentley sprang from the table and landed behind the floor length curtains covering the picture window behind the food tables.

Kurt breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that since the cat was gone, the danger was gone, but his relief was premature; the child hadn't yet stopped moving. Camden crashed into the edge of the table. He instinctively grabbed onto the edge of the table to try to save himself, but the unfortunate thing was, the table was supported by a single pedestal in the middle rather than four legs around the outside. Though he weighed only about thirty-five pounds, between his weight and the momentum he still carried within him, he pulled down the edge of the table just enough to tip it over.

The next few moments passed like a slow motion scene in a movie. The guests gasped, Blaine lunged for the little boy, Kurt lunged for the cake, and the cat watched with great interest from his hiding place. Blaine was too late to pull the child out of the path of the table, but an angel was watching over him; the table landed completely clear of any body parts. The cake, however, flew straight toward Kurt, but Kurt wasn't able to actually catch it. His hands grasped at the edges of the cake's base, but his fingers were unable to gain purchase. It slid right through his hands and landed on his shiny black wingtips, splattering his pant legs and everything within a foot radius around him with fondant shreds and chocolate cake crumbs.

"NO!" screamed Kurt. As tears ran down his face, he began to sob, and the rest of the room remained absolutely silent, not knowing what to do. Even Camden, who was normally quite the chatterbox, stared at Kurt standing in the cake mess without as much as a peep.

Kurt covered his face with his hands and continued to cry. Blaine, finally snapping out of his momentary shock, wrapped his arms around his almost-husband and began to speak softly to him to try to calm him.

"It's okay, baby. It's gonna be okay. We're gonna calm down and clean up the mess and then we're gonna have our reception. It's going to be awesome even without the cake. Kurt? Honey? Speak to me, please."

Blaine peeled Kurt's hands away from his face and was surprised to see that somewhere along the way, his shaking sobs had turned into shaking…laughter?

"Oh my GOD, Blaine," he choked out between his gasping laughs. "You should've SEE everyone's faces! I thought I was going to have to get a spatula to scrape your chin off the floor!" Kurt crouched down close to the floor, holding his stomach, he was laughing so hard.

"So, you're okay?" Blaine asked, quite confused by this 180-degree turn Kurt's mood had taken.

"Okay? I'm the one who's getting a fabulous Burberry coat AND the matching scarf out of this! Of course I'm okay!"

"Wait… scarf? Our deal was for the coat."

"Face it – you didn't think things would go THIS spectacularly badly, did you?"

Blaine nodded, resigned. "Point taken."

The cake decorator came up to them, proudly handing Kurt a plate. "I was able to save the top tier of your cake; since the layers essentially sandwiched down on top of each other, the bottom layers were ruined, but this one stayed intact. You boys can either cut into this together, or you can save it in your freezer for your first anniversary, as tradition dictates."

"Maybe we should just save it," Kurt said. "It's not really fair to our guests if we get to eat cake and they don't."

"Oh, but they do!" the baker informed them. Kurt and Blaine looked questioningly at her, and she continued speaking. "I have been making cakes for weddings for twenty-five years, and I have seen many strange things happen. You boys are far from the first couple whose cake was ruined by an animal, a child, or a combination thereof. About ten years back, I started charging what I call an 'emergency cake fee.' For every cake I make, I also make an equivalent number of servings in a basic, plainly decorated sheet cake and bring it along, just in case a cake disaster should occur. I have used that emergency cake more times than I can tell you."

Kurt perked up considerably. "That is so clever of you! I guess we'll be able to cut into it after all!" He began dragging Blaine over to a table with a cake server and cake plates on it. Kurt was just about to pick up the cake server when…

"Um, boys?" Kurt and Blaine spun around to find their officiant waving at them from their makeshift altar. "Forgetting something?"

"Oh my GOD," Kurt shrieked. "We're not married yet!"

Their guests all chuckled at Kurt's one track mind and began to make their way back to their seats. Kurt started to follow, but his shoes squished in the remains of the ruined cake. He looked down to examine his cake-y pants and sighed. Quinn showed up at Kurt's side with a package of baby wipes from the diaper bag she carried with her and made him allow her to wipe down his pant legs and shoes. A few moments later, she deemed him clean enough to get married. She gave him a peck on the cheek and whispered, "I'm _so_ sorry," before sending him off to join Blaine and the officiant to finish the ceremony.

"Well!" said the officiant. "That was quite the start to our time together, now wasn't it?" The guests laughed politely, and the officiant carried on with his welcome and led them through the short but mostly traditional ceremony.

"If any of you has reasons why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace."

"MEOW!" a loud, disgruntled voice called from inside the cat carrier at the back of the room.

"Oh hush, you!" Kurt called back. The whole room filled with laughter.

Kurt and Blaine opted to use the age old wedding vows, changing only the word obey within them, and promised to share their lives with each other. They exchanged the rings rescued from Bentley's bowtie, and then it was official.

"I now pronounce you husbands. You may share your first kiss as a married couple."

"ME-_YOW_!" the cranky feline called again.

"Patience," the officiant said. "They'll get to you later!"

Having to break away from their first kiss due to laughter, Blaine swooped in and caught Kurt's lips for a much more passionate second kiss. They finally pulled apart after several wolf whistles and catcalls, and Lauren, their photographer, began to take their formal wedding pictures.

Weeks later, the Anderson-Hummels opened a package containing proofs, prints, and originals of all their photos from their special day. While multiple poses were scattered in fancy frames throughout their home, only one was blown up to poster size and hung over their mantel.

In the photo, Kurt and Blaine held Bentley between them and kissed the sides of his head. Bentley faced forward, the emerald green satin bowtie fastened jauntily around his neck, and if you looked closely, there was a hint of a smile on his face.

But the real message was in Bentley's eyes. Anyone else would only see bright green eyes, wide and shining. Blaine and Kurt, however, were practiced at reading their furry friend. In his eyes, Bentley was really saying…

_Mission accomplished._

* * *

**A/N: Okay, this really IS it. We're gonna leave it as the four stages of their relationship: meeting, dating, getting engaged, and marrying. I DO have some outtakes planned, but I plan on making a separate fic for them so I can leave this story as rated T, because one of my outtakes is most definitely NOT T rated *wink*. Be SURE you put me on author alert so you can catch all of Bentley's future shenanigans :)_  
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